On the lookout

The squirrels haven't been nearly as busy this year, probably because the cat next door killed five of them within a few months of moving in. So I was happy to see one out and about as I arrived home from a day in the office.

However, I wasn't greeted as normal by Whisky, who upon investigation lay curled up, fast asleep on the bed. F wasn't around either, nor was his bicycle. So I set about making a lasagne (cue squirting tomato puree on clothes, spilling half a pan of white sauce on foot and floor...) by which point F returned, explained that the cat had been fed before I came home and why did I have food all over me.

We watched Severance, which was absolutely hilarious, while the cat moved from curled up position on the bed to curled-up position around F's hand on the sofa. It's a hard life.